


Phobophobia

by HostisHumaniGeneris



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bank Robbery, Other, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19812799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/pseuds/HostisHumaniGeneris





	Phobophobia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhampholeon34](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhampholeon34/gifts).



Jo crouched on the rooftop, looking down at the bank below, at the strobing blue and red lights of the cop cars. She took a sharp intake of breath as she weighed her options. She _could_ let things lie, she didn’t really like interacting with crowds, because… yeah. Especially large, armed crowds. Guns were scary.

She never was shot. She had been shot at, by panicked, crazed criminals before, shots that weren’t aimed. Still, she flinched and tensed and worried about getting hit. She was a superheroine, damn it! But guns still scared her.

A lot of things did.

Which was ironic, all things considered. 

She dropped down of the roof and landed in a crouch—she _was_ tough-ish. A normal person would’ve probably shattered their knees with that sort of landing. But that was about it—she guessed she had “super” strength of the kind that wasn’t _really_ super strength—she was plenty stronger than normal, but not nearly to the degree that throwing cars made sense as a battle tactic. 

But yeah, drop down from a rooftop to the street. That was more superheroic than finding a fire escape and clambering down it. Properly dramatic.

A dozen heads whipped around to stare at her, confusion giving way to fear. Maybe the superhero landing was a little too dramatic—although she once made the Commissioner pass out when she showed up unannounced. She couldn’t make a big entrance, or just sneak up on people. She gulped and tried to pull it back, tried to appear less threatening. She wasn’t sure if she _succeeded_ and that’s why no one was screaming, or if she failed, and everyone was just too scared to react.

“Um… Hello, officer.” She raised a hand and waved it at the nearest cop, approaching him while making no sudden moves. “May I ask what the situation is.”

 _Build rapport with local law enforcement_. They love superheroes. Usually. Unless they were corrupt cops or something.

Or unless that superhero was _abjectly terrifying_.

She wasn’t, not really. She was slightly built, a head shorter than the cop, and while she recently upgraded her costume to what she called the “Mark II” outfit, that just meant she had sprung for hockey pads and had a friend make her a cloak, rather than using a Party City one. She had to remind herself to _project_ her voice.

And she could terrify people.

“Um… I…” Sweat beaded the officer’s forehead as he searched for words.

“How many hostages? How many robbers?” She asked, forcing herself not to react, to reach out to offer aid. Because that would just make things worse. 

“Three gunmen and… maybe ten… customers and staff.” He was choosing his words carefully, looking at his fellow officers. One gave a shrug that practically _screamed_ ‘don’t look at me, she’s talking to you’. 

Three. Okay, she could do this. She weighed her options, how much effort to put in. Everyone was really jumpy, so it stood to reason the hostage takers were, too. She could go all in at once, make them witlessly terrified—maybe too scared to even pull a trigger. No, that wouldn’t work well. One might shoot wildly, and between the cops around her, the hostages inside, and the fact she very much wouldn’t like to get shot.

She’d take this slow, easy.

“Um Madame Panik…” The officer said as she walked past him, tensing every muscle he had as she approached. “I… please don’t eat anyone.”

She had _no_ idea how that story got started, why people thought she was cannibalistic. Did someone mishear her when she said ‘I’ll beat you’ to that one terror cell that stole a prototype powered armor suit as ‘I’ll eat you’? Or was it just an inborn fear that spread more and more. Taking a deep breath, she said “No promises.”

Okay, that was _mean_. But she was forcing herself to be a little bit mean, to scare people more. Given her power mainly revolved around fear, she needed to get comfortable with it. She’d looked things up—emotional manipulation seemed to be mostly a villainous thing—especially given the power to cause mind-numbing terror. So unless she wanted to fly to Doctor Mentallo’s private island and ask the arch-criminal for lessons, she’d need to work out the kinks of her powers on her own.

She didn’t like scaring people… well, at least most people. She did like scaring robbers. And murderers. And that one group of terrorists who were trying to hijack some prototypes from Daedalus Global Labs. And that one white-collar guy… okay, she didn’t like scaring _some_ people. But at the moment, unless she had it completely turned off, she couldn’t aim, couldn’t determine just how wide-reaching her powers were. 

Which made things a little difficult.

She crossed the line of cop cars, trying to ignore the muttering. One officer was praying, sounded like a very, very soft “Hail Mary”. She should’ve realized her time as a superhero would largely end up like this. She blinked, trying to maintain her composure. She was the only person here who had the option of keeping a level head. She just wanted to use her gifts to help people.

Which was very difficult when her powers involved instilling mortal panic in everyone around her.

Keep things calm, she reminded herself, again, and again. Take it slow. Stepping up the curb and crossing the sidewalk, she made sure to give the front bank a cautious approach. This was actually the bank she usually went to. There was a little vestibule, with two ATMs, and then there was the main room.

Stopping at the front of the bank, opened the door and said “Hello?”

Something exploded inside the bank. The glass door shattered, and she scurried off to the side. Her heart was pounding, and she lost her composure for a second. The screaming in the bank could’ve just been a reaction from the gunshot, or it was because she panicked, and other people were panicking and that thought was _not making her calm_.

She drew in a deep breath, and repeated her question. “Hello?!”

“Go away!” A slightly muffled voice broke out. She _slowly_ leaned to look in past the vestibule, seeing a trio of werewolves. Or bank robbers in cheap rubber werewolf makes. The big man in a sleeveless shirt was holding a shotgun, smoking from the barrel. Another, with a blue shirt was clutching a duffle bag. And a third, with a hooded sweatshirt, hood up, was holding a gun, pointed at the ground.

She stepped through the doorway, heart pounding all the while. “Nobody needs to get hurt.”

It was meant to be conciliatory, but the way the trio of robbers jumped and tensed, it came out as a threat. The man with the sleeveless shirt steadied himself, and hoodie man aimed at her. Blue shirt duffle bag dropped the duffle bag and fumbled at the waistband of his pants, pulling out his gun, tucked in. Suns out, guns out growled “Go away!”

“Was the safety on?” She asked incredulously, staring at the man with the blue shirt. Given where the gun was pointed when he had it tucked in his pants—that was a baaaad idea. Of course, her voicing that concern made him look at the gun, and she could practically imagine his aghast look when he did the math in his head.

Things were awkwardly silent for a while. “Um… you should really get a holster, next time.”

There, she was being a helpful, non-terrifying superheroine, right? A helpful, non-terrifying superheroine who just gave bank robbery tips. “Wait! I mean… there won’t _be_ a next time.”

Blue shirt squeaked in terror.

So not helpful or non-terrifying. She was still a superheroine, and she had to stop these bank robbers. She took a glance at the customers and tellers on the ground, shaking, eyes wide. One man in a white shirt with a tie was weeping. Try harder to scare the robbers, and the customers… well, they probably would need some help anyways, but she wanted to keep their trauma to the minimum.

She needed to wrap things up.

“Put down the guns.” She said, commandingly. Directly talking with someone, maybe it focused her a little, or maybe she was just imagining it had an effect on the person she was paying attention to, moreso than bystanders. Blue shirt and hoodie complied, but, wild-eyed, Suns-Out-Guns-Out was shaking yet kept a hold on his gun. “Put it down.”

“No!” His voice was wavering. “I-I’ll shoot…

“You won’t do that.” Jo said, aware that with her powers, however they her quavering voice it would be terrifying. “That gun won’t do anything to me.”

She _really_ didn’t want to find out if that was a true statement.

“I…” He whined, pumping the action on the shotgun hard, a scary, loud _cha-chuk_. It seemed to do a little to instill confidence. “I don’t think…”

“Okay, it might do something. It’ll make me mad.” Suns-Out-Guns-Out looked at her wide eyed. His hand was shaking very, very much. “I get creative when I get mad.”

The man in the tank top still shook, gun still in his grip. His voice was shrill now, and he wheeled around, leveling his gun at the crowd. “Back off, right now!”

Her heart froze. She _might_ be bulletproof. They were not. And the more she pushed, he was digging in his heels. Okay… maybe a change of pace was required, just intimidating him didn’t seem to be doing that much. What other approach could she take? 

She had some nebulous level of super powers and could do things with fear. Trying to make him scared of her wasn’t working too well. What else could she… she grinned under her mask when the idea struck her. She needed a problem he couldn’t shoot, that wouldn’t care about the civilians. Something he couldn’t push back against. “You know… they say that you’re never more than three feet away from a spider.”

“W-what?!” Suns-out-guns-out jumped. Okay, good plan. That was a common enough phobia. Hell, Jo was afraid of spiders. And getting shot. And heights. And public speaking. A first-floor of a bank? Even the worst acrophobe could handle it. Public speaking? She’d have to brainstorm _that_. Spiders? 

“Yeah. Spiders are everywhere. Think about it.” Someone in the crowd shrieked. Jo swallowed hard. “Ever just walk into one, sliding down on that little invisible thread? Like it’s floating in midair.”

Suns-out-guns-out wasn’t pointing at anyone in particular, anymore. _Good_.

“And all those tiny little legs, able to stick to walls or ceilings. And those _fangs_.” She was starting to freak herself out thinking all the scary arachnid lore she could think of. “And—IS THAT ONE ON YOUR SHOULDER!”

The muscular werewolf screamed, dropped his gun, and began slapping at himself, thrashing frantically. She’d have the same reaction, if she was in his shoes. Screaming “Gettemoffgettemoff!” he ran for her, practically bowling her over as he headed out the front doors. The cop she had been talking too ran at him, tackling him.

Jo half-turned to the other two robbers. “Are you ready to give up?”

Blue shirt was actually on the ground curled up. Hoodie looked at her or the door, then to his compatriot, then slowly raised his hands and planted them on the back of her head. “Yeah.”

After making sure the police cuffed the robbers, and then making doubly sure that nobody in the bank was hurt (beyond shrieking about spiders), Jo shrugged and was on her way. As the crowd shrunk back as she left, she tried to count this as a win. What was that old quote... _Its better to be feared than loved_?

Really... trying to half-remember Machiavelli would be so much more appropriate if she were a villain.

Still, everybody was going to be heading home to their families tonight, except for the bank robbers. The cop that she'd been talking to earlier was _very_ awkwardly tried to make some conversation as she passed, trying to work on the usual "superhero and ally on the force" dynamic--she appreciated his effort even if he was practically tripping over himself. A few tearful, _grateful_ phone calls were had between people trapped in the bank and families. 

She may have been terrifying.

But, all things considered, she had to admit she was starting to see results with this superhero thing.


End file.
